ARCHAEOLOGISTS ON CONSERVATION: HOW CODES OF ARCHAEOLOGICAL ETHICS AND PROFESSIONAL STANDARDS TREAT CONSERVATION

SUSAN I. ROTROFF

ABSTRACT—Object conservators work within a variety of contexts. Although they are guided by their own code of professional standards, their work is also affected by the codes and practices of the other professionals with whom they work. This article examines the attention given to conservation in the professional codes, standards, and guidelines of the three largest archaeological societies in the United States—the Archaeological Institute of America, the Society for American Archaeology, and the Society for Historical Archaeology—and of the Register of Professional Archaeologists, an organization devoted to the maintenance of professional standards in archaeology. It also discusses the treatment of conservation in guidelines developed by the American School of Classical Studies at Athens and by the American Schools of Oriental Research, which sponsor American excavations in Greece and the Near East. The purpose is to provide conservators with information on the attitudes toward conservation that are shared by the archaeologists with whom they collaborate, especially in the context of excavation.

1 INTRODUCTION

Codes of ethics and standards are now de rigueur for professional societies, and over the past decades conservators, archaeologists, anthropologists, and museum professionals have devoted considerable attention to the creation and refinement of such documents.1 No society is an island, however, and often the codes of one set of professionals have important implications for members of another. Such is the case with conservators and archaeologists. Conservators have their own ethical guidelines and standards of practice (Sease 1998), but they work within a variety of frameworks, and the standards of those frameworks inevitably have an impact on how effectively conservators can practice their profession. This article reviews the status of conservation within the codes of six archaeological organizations, with particular focus on how these codes govern the practice of conservators within the context of archaeological excavation. The full texts of most of these codes are available on the Internet (see References). The codes of the Archaeological Institute of America (AIA), the Society for American Archaeology (SAA), and the Register of Professional Archaeologists (RPA) are also published in Vitelli (1996, 253–66).

A brief discussion of the processes that led to the development of the codes can help to put them in context. The archaeological profession has changed dramatically over the past few decades (Patterson 1995). Until fairly recently it was a pastime reserved for the wealthy. Academic salaries were low, and outside sources of funding were few. Until well beyond the middle of the 20th century, field directors were most often well-to-do individuals with academic appointments at one of a handful of prestigious institutions. The high social status of these individuals served as a guarantee of their expertise, and their power was such that no one was likely to question the conduct of their excavations, in terms of either procedures or personnel. While a good deal of this old system remains in place, there has also been significant change. University teaching now pays a living wage, and funding sources have expanded, so that those without personal fortunes can both teach and raise funds for archaeological projects. In the United States, increasing amounts of archaeological work take place outside the academic setting through contract archaeology and through local, state, and federal agencies (Zeder 1997). Technological advances require that more staff members, with a wider variety of skills, be involved in excavation, and the participation of students, whether as volunteers or as members of field schools, has become routine. At the same time, the fast pace of development threatens archaeological sites worldwide; and the antiquities market continues to take its toll on the archaeological record (Vitelli 1996). The interests of indigenous peoples in archaeological sites and materials have raised thorny ethical issues, as have the claims of nations whose archaeological heritage has been exploited by foreign archaeologists and collectors in the past (Vitelli 1996). All these factors have contributed to a heightened awareness of the need to codify professional standards of behavior and practice in all areas of archaeological work. While some archaeological organizations have had such standards in place since their inception, most American organizations have put their codes in place or revised them within the last decade, in response to the pressures just enumerated.

Archaeologists can be found all over the academic map, working or trained in departments of anthropology, art history, classics, history, and biblical or Near Eastern studies. They practice archaeology all over the globe, and, because their research focuses on widely different times and places, it is not surprising that several professional societies have arisen. When it comes to ethical issues and professional standards, however, a fair degree of unanimity has emerged. While it is excavation and spectacular discoveries that attract attention and funding and confer status in both academia and society at large, it is the preservation of the archaeological record that every organization highlights in its codes and standards. All agree in seeing archaeologists as “stewards” of that record, with all the duties to protect and conserve that the term implies. While few codes give specific direction in the area of object conservation, this shared concern with stewardship implies a strong support for the work of the archaeological conservator.

2 PROFESSIONAL ORGANIZATIONS

The Archaeological Institute of America (AIA) is the oldest professional organization of archaeologists in the United States. Its stated purpose at the time of its founding in 1879 was to foster archaeological research worldwide. In practice, however, the greatest emphasis has always been on the archaeology of the Old World and particularly of the Mediterranean region. As is commonly the case with archaeological societies, its membership includes both professional archaeologists and lay people. In fact, nonprofessionals are in the majority, and much of the activity of the institute is aimed at fostering interest in archaeology among the general public. It is sometimes a tricky business balancing the interests of those two groups—professional and amateur—which do not always coincide neatly. The institute has therefore created two documents. One is a short Code of Ethics (AIA 1991), less than half a page long, adopted in 1990 and envisioned as appropriate to both lay and professional members. It does not mention conservation, although it does affirm the institute's dedication to “the protection and preservation of the world's archaeological resources.” Four years later, in 1994, the institute adopted a second and lengthier document, the Code of Professional Standards (AIA 1995), aimed at “those members … who play an active, professional role in the recovery, care, study, or publication of archaeological material.” By including the word “care” in the first sentence of its preamble, the code puts curation and conservation on a par with excavation and publication as primary concerns of the professional archaeologist. The preamble further describes archaeologists as the “primary stewards of the archaeological record” and enjoins them to “work actively to preserve that record in all its dimensions and for the long term,” telegraphing a central concern for conservation.

The code is divided into three sections, outlining responsibilities to the archaeological record, to the public, and to colleagues. The fourth guideline under the first rubric states: “Archaeologists should anticipate and provide for adequate and accessible long-term storage and curatorial facilities for all archaeological materials.” This guideline already expresses a concern with conservation, since adequate long-term curation must of necessity include appropriate conservation. But the sixth guideline goes further, specifying that “all research projects should contain specific plans for conservation … from the very outset, and funds should be secured for such purposes.”This guideline is particularly significant, for lack of funds is one of the main reasons for inadequate object conservation. Even the most ardent field archaeologist would probably not hesitate to support the principle that objects should receive proper treatment; but when the choice is between another week of excavation and enhanced conservation, the objects are likely to lose out. Earmarking funds for conservation at the outset is an important step.

The Society for American Archaeology is also an old institution, founded in 1934 to support the study of the archaeology of the Americas. Of all American archaeological organizations, the SAA has shown the greatest awareness of the need for professional guidelines. In 1961 the organization issued “Four Statements for Archaeology” (Champe et al. 1961), which dealt with some of the same issues the current codes address. The SAA has continued to refine its professional codes over the years, most recently, in 1996, publishing its Principles of Archaeological Ethics (SAA 1996). It has also left a rich paper trail chronicling the creation of that document (Lynott 1997). It is worth summarizing this process, for it shows that the document is not a statement ex cathedra but rather represents a broad consensus within the field of American archaeology.

Although the SAA had always taken a lively interest in maintaining its professional codes, it was the growing trade in illicit antiquities that most recently brought ethical issues to the forefront. Prompted by concern about that trade and the impact of archaeological publication upon it, the editors of American Antiquity and Latin American Antiquity (both publications of the SAA) announced in 1992 that those journals would not serve as the first place of publication of illicitly excavated objects (Latin American Antiquity 1992, 261). At about the same time (in 1991), realizing that illicit excavation was only one of a host of ethical issues that the organization needed to address, the SAA created a task force on ethics in archaeology. Instead of attempting to draft a document in committee, the co-chairs opened up the procedure by organizing a three-day workshop with 18 participants from a wide variety of backgrounds. At this workshop, which took place in 1993, the participants outlined six “principles,” as they termed them. Each of these principles was then presented in a position paper at the annual SAA meeting in the following year, and these papers were published in 1995 (Lynott and Wylie 1995). The task force spared no effort in eliciting response; more papers were given at regional conferences, there were discussion sessions at the 1995 annual meeting, and comments were invited through the SAA Bulletin, all of which led to modification of the six original principles and the addition of two more. The revised Principles were adopted by the society's Executive Board in 1996 (for the full text, see SAA 1996).

From the beginning, the framers of the document sought to define “ethical ideals or goals” rather than to mandate specific behavior. Archaeologists should not feel that they are fulfilling their professional obligations by complying with minimal requirements, but rather they should aim for the best practice possible (Lynott and Wylie 1995 foreword; Wylie 1996, 186). Of interest in the present context is that the paramount goal, enunciated as the first principle and the principle from which all others flow, is stewardship. “It is the responsibility of all archaeologists,” the document reads,“to work for the long-term conservation and protection of the archaeological record.” Given that these are statements of principle, not rules and regulations, no specific guidelines for how that is to be done are included, but the principle of stewardship appears repeatedly throughout the document. Thus, under Principle 4 (Public Education and Outreach), archaeologists are encouraged to “enlist public support for the stewardship of the archaeological record.” Under Principle 7 (Records and Preservation), they are enjoined to “work actively for the preservation of, and long term access to, archaeological collections, records, and reports.” And finally, under Principle 8 (Training and Resources), the need for “adequate training, experience, facilities, and other support” is emphasized. Thus, while the involvement of archaeological conservators on-site is not specifically mentioned, the principles expressed require such involvement.

The Society for Historical Archaeology was founded in 1967 as a scholarly organization devoted to the study of the archaeology of the modern world, from about 1400 to the present. The society incorporates its ethical position in Article VII of its bylaws (SHA 1992), a short and fairly general statement but one that specifically mentions conservation: “The Society supports the conservation, preservation, and research of archaeological resources.” The SHA has also prepared a lengthy document outlining standards for the curation of archaeological collections, and here object conservation plays a large part (SHA 1993). This document covers the cleaning, conservation, labeling, documentation, and storage of artifacts in some detail and characterizes conservation and proper curation as a “professional obligation” and “ethical responsibility” of the field archaeologist. Treatment appropriate to the material and condition of the object, supervision by professional conservators, and full documentation are stressed as necessities. Instructions for appropriate storage containers and guidelines for accessibility, security, and control of humidity, temperature, and light in the curation facility are also included, making this a useful practical guide as well.

An earlier attempt of the Society for American Archaeology to deal with professional standards had resulted, in 1976, in the creation of the Society of Professional Archaeologists (SOPA), which has recently metamorphosed into the Register of Professional Archaeologists (RPA) (McGimsey et al. 1995). The RPA is sponsored by the three organizations whose codes were outlined above (AIA, SAA, and SHA), but, unlike them, it is not a scholarly society. Its sole purpose is “the promotion and maintenance of professional standards in archaeology and the registration of qualified archaeologists.” Its website describes the register as “a listing of archaeologists who have agreed to abide by an explicit code of conduct and standards of research performance.” ItsCode of Conduct and Standards of Research Performance (RPA 1991), formulated when SOPA was first constituted in 1976, thus play a central role.

Those documents present a striking contrast to the Principles promulgated by the SAA, as they offer a specific list of rules rather than a series of goals. They follow the “Ten Commandments” model, with each section prefaced by the phrase “An archaeologist shall,” or “An archaeologist shall not.” This formula might lead one to expect more explicit direction on archaeological conservation, but the documents are disappointing on that score. The code outlines responsibilities in three areas: to the public; to colleagues, employees, and students; and to employers and clients. Responsibilities to the archaeological record itself are not explicitly addressed. The word “conservation” occurs only once, in Section I (The Archaeologist's Responsibility to the Public): “An archeologist shall … actively support conservation of the archeological resource base.” More guidance is offered in the second document, the Standards of Research Performance, but, even here, the standards seem to pass the conservation buck. Archaeologists are enjoined to “ensure the availability of … adequate curatorial facilities for specimens and records,” an injunction that ought to include conservation but that is maddeningly vague. The code furthermore requires that “specimens … resulting from a project must be deposited at an institution with permanent curatorial facilities, unless otherwise required by law.”

3 RESEARCH INSTITUTIONS

The professional organizations discussed above are, in fact, somewhat removed from the day-to-day practice of archaeology. They themselves usually do not sponsor excavations or surveys directly (although some have done so in the past), and all are voluntary associations that an archaeologist may or may not choose to join. Other organizations, however, are closer to the actual fieldwork and are therefore in a position to have a significant impact on the way that fieldwork is conducted. These are the various research institutions through which much archaeological research is conducted outside of the United States.

One such institution is the American School of Classical Studies at Athens (ASCSA). In Greece, all fieldwork by non-Greeks must be carried out under the auspices of a national school—in the case of Americans, the American School. In the eyes of the Greek government, the school is responsible for the conduct of those projects, and if that conduct is deemed inadequate, it is the school that will be held accountable. It is therefore necessary for the school to regulate and monitor American projects in Greece, an obligation it performs primarily through its Excavation and Survey Committee. While permits are issued by the Greek state, American archaeologists must apply first to the committee, a body of four elected and three ex officio members, all individuals with extensive archaeological experience in Greece and elsewhere. The committee has prepared a four-page document (ASCSA 1997) to guide researchers in the preparation of their applications. Conservation is mentioned explicitly only once, in a discussion of the detailed budget that must accompany the application; researchers are reminded of a stipulation in Greek Law 5351/32 that mandates that the project “pay for … the conservation of the uncovered remains, the support of walls, the filling of pits, or the drainage of water.” The language of that legislation suggests a concern with conservation of the site itself rather than of objects excavated from it. Applicants must also, however, ensure the safe storage of artifacts and must submit a detailed research plan, including a list of all personnel and their qualifications, as well as a description of permanent storage facilities. The absence of provisions for proper archaeological conservation in such an application is unlikely to go unremarked, and the Excavation and Survey Committee does not hesitate to demand revisions to research plans before granting its approval. It is important to note that codes and standards can go only so far. It is impossible to legislate for every eventuality, and vigilant human oversight is an all-important safeguard.

The American School has recently accepted a report from the Ad Hoc Committee on Site Stewardship (ASCSA 1999), which was created to deal with a range of issues involving intellectual property, conservation, and publication. The report is not a binding document but was written to guide the school in the regulation of excavation and survey projects carried out under its aegis. Conservation is mentioned twice. “The School has the right …,” the report reads, “to refuse to renew a permit when proper procedures have not been followed or certain specific requirements (for example, for storage or conservation) have not been met.” Conservation also figures in a list of the responsibilities of project directors, which “would normally include arrangements for excavation or survey, storage, archives … site and object conservation, and publication.”

A similar organization, which oversees American fieldwork in Israel, Jordan, Cyprus, and Syria, is the American Schools of Oriental Research (ASOR), which adopted its Policy on Preservation and Protection of Archaeological Resources in 1995 (ASOR 1995). ASOR, too, makes stewardship central to its code. Archaeologists should be “both caretakers and advocates” for the archaeological record, that is, for sites, collections, records, and reports. In the brief Section IV of the Policy, devoted to excavation standards, proper curation of records and collections is specifically mandated. There ASOR also invokes “the review process of its Committee on Archaeological Policy” as a watchdog to ensure “that excavations are conducted according to the highest possible professional standards.”The committee has in turn drafted a more detailed document (ASOR n.d.) governing standards, procedures, and guidelines for projects carried out under ASOR's aegis. In Section I of this document,“conservation by qualified personnel” for all archaeological materials recovered is mandated.

4 THE STICK OR THE CARROT

What happens, though, when archaeologists do not follow the guidelines of the codes? What recourse would there be, for instance, if one learned that objects found on a given excavation were not receiving appropriate treatment? The SAA document, with its statement of maximal goals, leaves little room for enforcement. The RPA, on the other hand, explicitly describes its strictures as “minimum standards,” and integral to the organization is a grievance procedure designed to deal with alleged violations of those standards. The AIA also has a grievance procedure (AIA 1996), although there was considerable resistance to this within the Professional Responsibilities Committee on the grounds that grievances “could cause bad feelings” among the membership. It was finally agreed, though, that bad feelings were better than bad archaeology, and a procedure for reporting and resolving infractions of the codes was drafted. Even when such a procedure is in place, however, professional organizations do not carry a very big stick. The most they can do is to revoke the membership of the offending party. That might or might not be embarrassing, but it will not remedy the problem. The person in question can continue to carry out the project, whether it is well conceived and executed or not. Institutions with more direct oversight—like the American School of Classical Studies—can, however, refuse to seek renewal for a permit if an archaeologist's conduct is found to be below professional standards. The fact is, though, that both individuals and institutions are reluctant to point fingers and take steps to correct inadequacies. I know of only one case where formal complaints have resulted in a change of project direction, although I have heard of and observed many instances of poor archaeological practice, in terms of object conservation as well as in other facets of field archaeology.

Innovative use of the carrot may, however, be more effective than the stick, and in this area I can report a new initiative of the Archaeological Institute of America. In 1998 the AIA established its Archaeological Conservation Award. The honor is given on the basis of nominations solicited from the entire membership of the institute (AIA 1998). It can go to an individual, an institution, or an organization and recognizes excellence in any one of four areas: archaeological conservation, archaeological conservation science, archaeological heritage management, or the enhancement of public awareness of archaeological conservation through teaching, lecturing, exhibition, or publication. The recipients of this award will provide visible models, a more effective teaching tool, perhaps, than either lists of regulations or exhortatory principles. The AIA has further established a Conservation and Heritage Management Committee charged with the promotion of communication “between AIA and professional organizations dedicated to conservation” and with the promotion of “greater awareness of the central role of conservation in archaeological fieldwork” (AIA 1999, 18). In support of that second goal, the committee will organize colloquia on topics related to conservation for presentation at future annual meetings of the AIA.

5 PAST, PRESENT, AND A SUGGESTION FOR THE FUTURE

The codified statements about conservation summarized above provide an overview of the attitude of the archaeological profession to conservation. It is difficult to generalize, however, about the effect of those codes on archaeological practice. In place of generalization, therefore, I offer an account of changes on one excavation with which I am familiar, and speculation about what brought those changes about.

At the Agora Excavations, 30 years ago, there was a “mending room,” labeled with the Greek word synkoleterion (literally, “the place where things are glued together”), which pretty much sums up its role. It was run by Spyros Spyropoulos, a remarkable and highly intelligent man who was blessed with ingenuity, curiosity, manual dexterity, and practical ability but who had no formal training beyond an apprenticeship in carpentry. Nonetheless, he was widely consulted in Greece for his practical knowledge of the repair and preservation of artifacts. Major changes began in 1980, with the appointment of the first full-time, professional conservator. Now the excavation has a well-equipped conservation laboratory, currently staffed by two conservators and a variable number of interns who play a vital role in both excavation and the management of the collection.

Many factors contributed to the earlier situation and to the subsequent change. The overwhelming majority of the objects found at the Agora are of ceramic or stone, materials that seemed, in the early years of excavation (the 1930s), to require little treatment beyond mending and filling. Organic material was almost never encountered, and even metals were relatively rare among the objects recovered; expert advice on the stabilization and reconstruction of such objects could be sought elsewhere if the need arose. As the collection aged, however, it became clear that these objects were not as stable as the archaeologists had imagined. It also emerged that some of the storage and treatment decisions that had been made in the past were having deleterious effects upon the objects. The fact that this was a long-running excavation and that the objects remained accessible and were frequently consulted by scholars (so that the conservation problems were highly visible) contributed to awareness of the need for a professional conservation program for the collection and therefore for the excavation as well. In addition, the late 1960s saw a change in leadership, with the appointment, for the first time, of a director who had not been a member of the team since the first years of excavation and who was eager to introduce significant innovations. These changes, in short, did not come about as a result of the codification of standards described above. Rather, both phenomena— improved conservation on individual excavations and the concern for conservation that the codes express—grew out of profound changes in the attitude of archaeologists toward the objects of their study: a sharper awareness of their fragile nature and of our responsibility, and ability, through collaboration with conservators, to take decisive action to pass these objects on to future generations intact.

These changes are also part of a more general development within the academy and the world at large. The explosion of knowledge in every field has spawned increased specialization, which in turn creates a need for enhanced cooperation and collaboration on projects of even modest scale. Collaboration does not always come easily, however, and greater strides could be made in this direction. The difficulties inherent in confronting a different approach to a problem, the use of unfamiliar concepts and vocabulary, and loss of complete control can turn people away from the enterprise. While archaeologists and conservators are part of the same excavation staffs, all too often they work side by side but not together. Smaller and truly collaborative projects leading to joint publications by archaeologists and conservators, in journals devoted to both professions, would highlight the complementary contributions that both bring to archaeological research and draw attention to the fact that both are partners in a coordinated effort to rescue the past from obscurity and save it for the future.

6 CONCLUSIONS

The concept of stewardship around which the documents discussed above are built derives, ultimately, from the model of ecological conservation (Lipe 1974). As is clear from reports of discussions that took place as the SAA was drafting its Principles, many archaeologists thought of stewardship primarily in terms of sites, not objects. Controversy revolved around the question of whether archaeologists could responsibly excavate sites that are not threatened, or whether, since excavation is destruction, they should conserve those sites for future archaeologists (Lynott and Wylie 1995, 28–32; Lynott 1997). No one seems to have even mentioned issues of object conservation, but, following the ecological model,“conservation” must apply to the whole ecosystem, down to its smallest component. Stewardship therefore implies serious commitment to object conservation, even if this may not have been foremost in the minds of those framing the documents. Whether codes express minimal standards or maximal goals, they are only written documents. Human beings have to interpret and apply them, and the language of the archaeological codes, principles, and standards makes conservation a primary responsibility of archaeologists.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

My thanks to Jeffrey Maish for suggesting this topic to me and for reading a draft of this article. I am grateful also to the many people who helped me gather the information summarized here: Steven Koob, Claire Lyons, Mark Meister, Naomi Norman, and Bob Sonderman were especially helpful. Special thanks are due Alison Wylie, who, closely involved with the development of the SAA Principles and with archaeological ethics, made suggestions that substantially improved the content of this article in those areas.

NOTES

1. For an index of codes of many professional societies, see the web page of the Illinois Institute of Technology, Center for the Study of Ethics in the Professions, at http://csep.iit.edu/codes/index.html (accessed 8/14/00).

REFERENCES

AIA. 1991. Code of ethics. American Journal of Archaeology95:285, also at www.archaeological.org/About_the_AIA/Ethics.html (accessed 2/15/01). Boston:Archaeological Institute of America.

AIA. 1995. Code of professional standards. American Journal of Archaeology99:300–301, also at www.archaeological.org/About_the_AIA/CodePS.html (accessed 2/15/01). Boston: Archaeological Institute of America.

ASCSA. 1997. Procedures for obtaining a permit for excavation or survey work in Greece, revised April 29, 1997, at www.ascsa.org (accessed 2/15/01). Princeton, N.J.: American School of Classical Studies at Athens.

ASCSA. 1999. Report of the Ad Hoc Committee on Site Stewardship, March 23, 1999, accepted by the Managing Committee of the School, May 8, 1999.American School of Classical Studies at Athens, Princeton, N.J.

ASOR. 1995. Policy on preservation and protection of archaeological resources, at www.bu.edu/asor/policy.htm (accessed 2/15/01). Boston: American Schools of Oriental Research.

ASOR. n.d. Statement of general standards for projects affiliated with the American Schools of Oriental Research, at www.bu.edu/asor/digstand.htm (accessed 2/15/01). Boston: American Schools of Oriental Research.

SAA. 1996. Ethics in archaeology: Society for American ArchaeologyPrinciples of archaeological ethics, American Antiquity61:451–52, also at www.saa.org/AboutSAA/Ethics/prethic.html (accessed 2/15/01). Washington, D.C.: Society for American Archaeology.

AUTHOR INFORMATION

SUSAN I. ROTROFF is professor of classical archaeology at Washington University in St. Louis and a specialist on Greek ceramics of the Hellenistic period (3d–1st century B.C.). She is a longtime member of the research staff of the Agora Excavations, in Athens, Greece, and has excavated in Turkey and Tunisia as well. She has been a member of the Governing Board of the Archaeological Institute of America and served an eight-year term (1992–2000) on its Professional Responsibilities Committee, the body that drafted the institute's Code of Ethics and Code of Professional Standards. She has also served as vice-chair of the Managing Committee of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens. As chair of the school's Ad Hoc Committee on Site Stewardship, she drafted guidelines for the school's regulation of excavations that take place under its aegis. She has also served on the school's Excavation and Survey Committee. Address: Washington University, Campus Box 1050, One Brookings Dr., St. Louis, Mo. 63130-4899